


Shadows, Skeletons, and Monsters

by GeminiDemon



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse mentioned, F/F, F/M, Female Reader, Gay OC, Homophobia Mentioned, OC characters, Physical Abuse, Reader Insert, So yeah...this is gonna get darker., Watson is a cat, not sure how to tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-05-25 00:46:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6173317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeminiDemon/pseuds/GeminiDemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Running away usually isn't an answer, but you'll be damned if you'll let that stop you! You've got your home, you've got your cat, and you have a hell of a lot of determination. You'll make things work out the best you can, and, oddly enough, it works. Finding yourself among monsters, happiness comes to you much easier than originally thought. But how long do you get to keep this happiness? And how long can you continue to run away?</p><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Undertale, nor it's characters. I do, however, own my OC's. :3 (Forgot to put this up here...sorry!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Warm Welcome

**Author's Note:**

> I had an idea and had to write it....already working on Chapter two. Tell me what you guys think! :3 Constructive Criticism is awesome! Just please be respectful and kind with your words please.

So maybe this wasn’t the best idea in the world. Standing in the middle of a barely unpacked mess of boxes and bags you meet the amber gaze of your cat, Watson. The small black and white terror is perched on a pile of three small boxes, his eyes mildly judging you for your choices. If he could, you were sure he would be arching a brow and saying something like, ‘Really? _This_ is where you decided to run away to instead of facing your problems?’. If such a thing were possible you would promptly tell the sass master to shut the fuck up. As it were, you simply huffed.  
  
“Stop giving me that look. If I stayed there a day longer, I’d have shot the jerk the moment he showed up.” You needlessly defend yourself as you cut through the tape of one box, ignoring the churning in your stomach to instead start pulling out the glasses you managed to pack up from your former home.

Finding a house on such short notice had been difficult, but your mother and grandparents had happily pitched in with buying one. The bills would be paid for, there was nothing you really had to pay for aside from your own food. For a moment you froze in walking through the somewhat small kitchen, the plastic blue glass in your hand held halfway to the open cabinet. Your heart constricted painfully, squeezing in a tight sharp pain before slowly releasing with an ache that seemed to pulse slightly. They had helped you run, your mother with a sad but understanding look, your grandparents all too aware of why you were running...your little brother promising to be strong for both himself and your mother. The grip on the glass tightened.  
  
Running away was understandable...but you had left your family behind to deal with the monster you were running away from. A harsh laugh left you, it was almost funny, how humanity was still so against the monsters that had come from Mount Ebott three years ago, yet they hardly noticed the true monsters. The men and women alike who harmed others for fun, because they could, for their own pleasure. A chill danced down your spine, bile momentarily rising in your throat that you quickly forced back as you put away the glass. It had been like this for a couple of days now, chills causing goosebumps to appear, fear and disgust churning in your stomach, a distinct feeling of dread and an itch that made being touched by others nearly unbearable. _He_ was coming back from a trip to Florida. The month or so of just being home without him had been a breath of fresh air, it had saved you from finally shattering and letting out every emotion that had collected and festered in your soul, but when he had called your mom and said he was coming back you had been gripped by the worst panic attack you had to face yet.

It was a soft mewl and the feeling of Watson brushing against your calves that knocked you from your less than spectacular thoughts. A breath was harshly sucked in and you uncurled your fists, blinking away the scenes of the pain he had caused and instead you focused on trying to gather your thoughts. “It’s fine, hon. I’m fine.” You say hoarsely, giving the feline a slightly forced smile. Crouching down you lightly scratch behind his ears, earning a purr in response before you stand again. It’s then that you hear a loud banging on your door, something that makes your heart leap up into your throat, nearly strangling you as you give a wary but curious look out into the yard. What you see makes you arch a brow...when did that many monsters show up?  
  
Curious but slightly wary, mainly because whoever was pounding on your door had yet to let up, you make your way to the door. Glancing back at Watson, you realize he’s peeking around the kitchen door frame, watching you curiously with his little butt planted on the ground. He’s apparently content to just watch instead of assisting you with anything. “Traitor,” you hiss before glancing back at the door. The wood is rattling slightly, and when you open it you find yourself just barely dodging a scaly fist to the face.  
  
“Ah! You finally came to the door! Nice ta see you weren’t ignoring us!” Ignoring? Arching a brow you look up at the fish monster with red hair and try not to let your confusion show. She’s smirking, her arms now crossed as she stands on your front porch, almost acting like she owns the place. She probably could if she really wanted to. Standing up straight you look her over curiously, before looking over her shoulder at the others that have gathered. There’s a little yellow reptilian monster, two goat monsters, and two skeletons. The odd ball out is the small human child who is grinning brightly, a large, clumsily frosted cake cradled in their hands.  
  
“Not to be rude or anything,” You start out slowly, inwardly cringing with the last minute realization that when most people are rude they usually start out with something like that, “But uh...do you mind telling me what you all are doing..um...here?”  
  
God, did that sound as awkward as you thought it did? It did, didn’t it. Wonderful. Clearing your throat a bit, your gaze continues to shift back and forth from the monster on your porch and the small group behind them. You have no problems with monsters, not at all, but socializing has never been a strong skill of yours...at least not until you knew you could trust people. Trust was something very few people gained easily from you, though...children always managed to capture your heart with very little problems. So seeing the young kid among the crowd settled your inner panic for the time being.  
  
“TO WELCOME YOU TO THE NEIGHBORHOOD, OF COURSE!” The tall skeleton with a red cape answers before the fish monster can get a word in. He looks proud, but for the second that you’re startled into silence is a long enough time frame for uncertainty to cloud his face. He seems to cave in a bit on himself, his gloved fingers touching each other as he asks in a much quieter tone, “This is the human custom, correct?”  
  
Your heart breaks a bit at the sudden change in his enthusiastic personality and you immediately rush to correct it, wanting to see him happy again. “Well, yes. I just...well...I’ve never actually had anyone welcome me..well...anywhere. Really.” You manage to get out, grimacing at the way you stumble over your words. Running a hand through your hair, you let out a slight laugh. “I’m really sorry, I just wasn’t expecting this. I really appreciate it though.”  
  
The look of worry on the skeletons face (how was that possible? ...why are you only just now questioning that?) is now gone and you relax, a smile tugging at your lips. The last thing you want is to upset these monsters, especially when they’ve all come to welcome you to your new home. For the moment your earlier worries are forgotten and your southern manners smack you in the face and you jolt a bit, “Oh! Uh, would you guys like to come in? It’s a bit of a mess, I haven’t unpacked everything yet but I have all the furniture moved in.” You step to the side, holding the door wide for them.  
  
The fish monster steps in without second thought, apparently pleased to get a closer look at things as she moves to the living room that is right down the short hallway after you pass the dining room and kitchen. The tall skeleton is following after quickly while the others look mildly surprised before they come in one by one. The skeleton in the blue hoodie is last, he’s an inch or so taller than you and while it doesn’t exactly make you worry, it makes you uncomfortable when he stops just behind you as you shut the door. You pause for a moment, the feeling of being watched causing you to feel like a bucket of ice water has been dumped on you. Turning on your heel you look questioningly at the smiling skeleton, trying not to think of how eerie that smile is as you wait for the skeleton to say whatever he wants to say.  
  
“you seem a little out of sorts kid. you always like that or is somethin bothering you?”

For some reason his question feels like a trap, like he’s analyzing every little thing you do or say. While your logical side says to lie through your teeth and brush it off as only an odd day, another part of you, the side of you that you can admit wins a little too much sometimes, has you responding truthfully. “I was thinking of some pretty bad times before you guys showed up. I’m not in the greatest mindset...I’m really sorry if I seemed...I dunno…rude, I guess. It’s been a rough day.”  
  
The monster seems surprised by your answer, his smile tilting downwards a bit as the white pinpricks of his eyes ( _how?_ ) look over your face as if he’s trying to find some sort of lie. When he doesn’t the frown grows a bit more.

“no problem, kid. we could always come back later if ya want?”

The offer makes you relax, relief flooding over the uncomfortable feeling you had before. “Not a chance. I’ve been fighting back issues all day...having you guys show up to welcome me here..” Your sentence runs off as you glance towards the living room, hearing not so quiet murmurs among the others that had shown up and your smile comes easier, “It’s really nice. Where I was before, we almost never had the neighbors come over. My..um...my dad never liked them very much.”  
  
Your dad never liked _anyone._ Ignoring that reminder, you stomp out the memories and focus on the skeleton in front of you. He’s looking at you oddly now, had your tone shifted? Could he tell? For a moment you’re worried but you don’t drop his gaze, at least not until Watson decides to interrupt your impromptu staring contest. The cat walks up and brushes his side against your leg and you let the worrying thoughts fade away slowly.  
  
“i thought this was something humans did?” The skeleton asked curiously as you finally start moving towards the living room. You’ve left the others waiting long enough and you don’t want to get trapped in a conversation about your father’s antisocial habits.

“It is. Not all of them do it though..and sometimes the gesture isn’t always appreciated. I don’t know why, but I guess some people just like their privacy or whatever.” You shrug as you talk, the conversation ending early as you walk into the wide, spacious living room. The fish monster and the yellow reptile monster (was she a dinosaur? A lizard, maybe?) are on one of the couches, the female goat monster and the tall skeleton are on the other. The child is standing near the coffee table, the cake now sitting on the middle of it, and the other goat monster is sitting oddly still in your recliner.  
  
“HUMAN!” You jump a bit at the sound of the tall skeletons voice. Maybe this is something you ought to get used to… “WHILE YOU AND SANS SPOKE AT THE DOOR, WE REALIZED WE HAVE NOT YET INTRODUCED OURSELVES! I AM THE _GREAT_ PAPYRUS!”  
  
Sans? Papyrus..? Like…like the fonts? Now curious you look to the other skeleton, who simply shrugs. Well then. Turning your attention back to the others, it’s the female goat monster who is talking now. “I am Toriel, and this is Frisk and Asgore.” She points to the two she names as she names them. Frisk beams brightly while Asgore looks a little shy looking. Is he uncomfortable? Or just unsure of what to say? You can’t tell.  
  
“I’m Undyne! And this is Alphys,” the fish monster speaks up next and you nod, trying to remember all of the names. Sans, Papyrus, Toriel, Frisk, Asgore, Undyne, and Alphys...those were all interesting in some way or another. Remembering them shouldn’t be too hard right? After a moment you realize they’re all looking at you expectedly and quickly tell them your name. A nudge against your calf makes you roll your eyes a bit but you smile anyway, “And this is Watson.” You gently nudge the cat back and he shoots you a look before jumping up onto one of boxes and perching there.  
  
“Well, it’s nice to meet both of you.” Toriel says with a smile as you walk further into the room and sit down on the armrest of the couch Undyne and Alphys are sitting in. “When we saw that the house here was sold, Frisk said that they wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.” As Toriel speaks, Frisk nods, their smile still bright. Your heart melts just a bit and you can already tell that if you end up close to your neighbors you’ll probably end up spoiling the little kid. Leaning forward you say, “Well thank you, Frisk.”  
  
Afterwards you look to the others, “And thank you guys. I know I seemed a little weird when answering the door. Things have just been weird lately...and I’m not exactly used to the new house yet.” You admit a bit sheepishly.  
  
“First house?” The question comes from Undyne and you nod.

  
“Yeah, my mom and grandparents helped me buy it, but I’m not used to having all the space...that and the fact that it’s so quiet. I’m sure I would have gone insane with being alone with my thoughts for so long.” Undyne smirks and Papyrus looks proud, probably from the idea of saving someone.  
  
“I-If y-you want w-we could h-help you u-unpack?” The voice is low, nearly silent, but you catch it instantly. After years of being talked over and told to speak up just because your normal voice is so soft, you make a point to listen carefully for others. Your answer is out quicker than usual, “You guys don’t have to do that! Really, I’m fine.”  
  
“it’s not like it’s a lot of stuff, kid. it wouldn’t be too much trouble to help you out.” Sans speaks up from where he had joined Papyrus and Toriel, and before you know it the others are agreeing. How you end up out voted on this, you have no idea, but everyone is already up and helping. Well...not everyone. Sans has taken Papyrus’ spot on the couch. You give him a look and he grins and shrugs, “what? i said it wasn’t a lot, you guys have it handled.”  
  
Oddly enough you somehow aren’t surprised by his actions or his answer. Instead you join your new neighbors to help figure out where things should go. You really wish they had listened to you, but with them assisting the chore you had dreaded doing has become more fun. Undyne and Alphys are filling up the kitchen, Toriel, Papyrus, and Frisk help you move things into your room while Asgore carefully moves boxes to the right rooms. Watson watches this all from the other couch, now curled up and keeping a silent eye out on everyone as he rests. For now everything that had been plaguing your mind for the last few days has fallen silent. You feel welcomed, your new home actually feels like a home instead of a new building, and you’re smiling more than you have for years. This is more than you could have asked for on your first day moving in.


	2. A Midnight Coffee and a Game of Chess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes nightmares can be a bridge to better things. Like coffee and chess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies guys! I meant to have this up sooner but I nearly crashed on my keyboard. So here's the late chapter. >.>

Run. Run, run,  _ run faster. _ You stumble on the carpeted steps, hands grasping at the stairs as you claw your way up, tiny hands clutching at the tannish cream colored fabric. He’s in the bathroom. You finally worked up the nerve and bit him. You’re not supposed to bite and your cheek stings from the backhanded slap he’d given you. You make it to the door that leads to upstairs and hope starts to bubble up. If you get out, you can run away, if you get out you can find someone. A neighbor, a cop, a stranger. Maybe they could help you, maybe they could save you. God knows your family is too busy looking out at the lake to care. You run through the wooden floors of kitchen, sock covered feet sliding on the floor, and then it’s there. Just on the other side of the dining room is the glass front door. It’s the afternoon, the sun is hitting it just right so it floods across the floor. It looks heavenly. It’s your freedom from hell.    
  
You take a step forward, slowing down as hope swells. It’s there, right before you. You just need to open the door and run, then you’re  _ free _ . Another step. The bang of the door from downstairs makes you jump, you hear your name growled out in a loud yell.    
  
You freeze.

No. Oh no. Can you make it? Can your smaller frame make it to the door and out before he can snatch you up by your shirt? You hear him behind you, you hear him say your name again. Your throat has gone tight, the image of heaven's door blurs and you feel tears rolling down your cheeks. God, why?  _ Why?  _ You shouldn’t have slowed down. You shouldn’t have let your hope take over and make you feel like everything was okay. Your name is spoken again.    
  
“Come here.” He demands. You turn, back stiff and lower lip clenched between your teeth. The image of your lovely front door now behind you, you look up at the monster in front of you. The true monster...the one that torments you every day. He doesn’t look like the monster under your bed that your mom used to tease you about. Or the creepy strangers in big black vans and long tan coats. He looks like a normal person. Gray hair, gray beard, blue eyes. He has those bright blue eyes that you know you should have grown up trusting. That you should trust now. You hate that silvery blue color with a passion, almost as much as you hate the deep green that painted the walls of your parents old bedroom. Those thoughts escape you as he speaks again.    
  
“I said, come here.” His cheeks are flushed and angry, his jaw is set and he’s glaring at you. Daring for you to run. You know you can’t make it, you know your family won’t help you. They trust him and you can’t work up the nerve to tell. A shudder runs through you as you look at the spot he’s pointing to. Will he hit you again? ...Will he do something worse than what he did before? You want to run, but you won’t make it. And if you run and he catches you...would it be worse?  _ I want my mom...my grandpa...anyone.  _ Throat tight and spirit broken, you walk towards him with your gaze down. You can feel his eyes on you, it makes your skin crawl and your stomach churn uncomfortably. When you’re in arms reach he grabs you, the growl in his voice deeper as he jerks you forward. You close your eyes, fear radiating in your core. He has you now. 

When you jerk awake it’s with a scream on your tongue, choked back only by the way your throat has closed up on you. You can feel rough calloused hands on your skin, holding you down, jerking you this way and that way. It makes you want to hide, to take the hottest shower possible and scrub until your skin is raw to get the phantom touch off you. Your blankets are tangled around your form and you jerk, struggling to escape its grasp. When you finally get an arm free, you shove the covers away and push yourself backwards, only realizing that you didn’t wake up in the same position you fell asleep in until you’re falling off the side of the bed. Your heart lurches the split second you’re in the air, and then you’re hitting the floor back first and the back of your skull cracks against the ground. 

You lay there, trembling and in pain, until you hear a noise. Watson has jumped down from the bed, the year old cat having been roused by your panicking and blanket throwing. He crawls onto your chest and sniffs at you, watching you as you try and gather your thoughts. Before long he starts to purr, laying down on your chest and nuzzling his forehead against your chin in an attempt to comfort you and make you feel better. The tears that have been rolling down your face and into your hair finally slow and you pet Watson to let him know that it’s okay. That you’re okay, even if you’re not. You sit up slowly, your back giving off sharp sparks of pain and a horrible headache dancing in the back of your skull. No more sleep for tonight unless you want to risk a coma...with that nightmare it sounds both inviting and terrifying to fall into a coma. Forever being asleep, yet forever trapped in your mind....what if you got forever trapped in an eternal loop of nightmares? That just can’t happen. So you need something to keep you awake.    
  


Setting Watson to the side you slowly get up. Your back aches, but you ignore it and wander through the darkness that is your new house. It’s silent, yet not uncomfortably so. Now that you’re not at home with your family, you switch on one or two lights that you pass by, that odd fear of darkness having never really left you. Making it to the kitchen you flick on the switch and glance over everything, pausing at the sight of the cake. While putting things away yesterday you had been told about how Frisk, Papyrus, Undyne, and Toriel had all made the cake. Toriel had insisted that she had only been chaperoning, but you had thanked them all anyway. Remembering that warmth, the radiant happiness you had felt while getting to know the others a bit more, you feel some of the left over tendrils of fear from your nightmare release you. Coming close to the cake, you swipe at it with a finger and lick they white frosting from your finger, humming contently at the sweet taste that blooms on your tongue. Nothing beats a well-made cake. Except for a well-made cup of coffee. It’s as you search the cabinets that something sort of important dawns on you. You haven’t been to the store yet. You only have cake and you have no coffee. Crap.    
  
Sighing in defeat, you know you have to venture out into the night to that little 24/7 hour open coffee place you had glanced at while you had been busy moving in. It’s not that far of a walk, so you change out of your pajamas into a comfortable two sizes too big hoodie, a t-shirt, blue jeans, and a pair of good shoes. Grabbing your wallet you walk back out of your room, this time with Watson following behind. “I’ll be fine,” you promise your overprotective follower when he sits beside the kitchen door. “I’m just gonna go have a couple cups of coffee so I don’t fall asleep for a couple of hours.”    
  
Watson doesn’t look happy about it, his tail twitching side to side, but after a bit of a stare down, you leave. The light from your porch is on, but you made sure to lock the door before you walk down the steps and down the driveway. It’s a silent night, crisp and cool and absolutely perfect in your opinion. The cold chills you slightly, but it’s comfortable and enough to keep you awake as you walk. Your mind tries to draw you back into the nightmare, to bring up old memories from when you were twelve...to bring up the past you try desperately to hide from. You shake your head, your hair swaying slightly as you slowly make your way down the sidewalk that is lit up by the street lamps. While you’re caught up, you don’t notice the form that has been following you for the last two or three minutes. You only notice when you hear the voice.    
  
“hey, kid. what’re you doin out so late?”    
  
Sans? Frowning slightly, you stop and turn to look at the monster. The skeleton has his hood pulled up, but he’s walking towards you with an worried expression. Why is he worried? It can’t possibly be because of you, right? He eyes you, mainly your face, and you suddenly wish that you had done something to fix the obvious red marks that showed you had been in tears recently. You force a smile. 

“Hey Sans, what are you up to so late?” You ask, hoping he won’t ask about why you look like you do. You probably look terrified, or just like some lost little kid. It was a good description...you felt lost, at least. Without your little brother to distract you, or your mom to talk to, there is very little for you to find comfort in while you’re here. 

“answer my question first and maybe i’ll answer yours?” He offers, finally reaching where you’ve been standing. You turn and continue to walk with him keeping pace with you easily. He’s looking at you from beneath his hood, white dots focused on your face as you try to think of an answer that doesn’t sound weird. When you can’t think of anything you sigh in defeat.    
  
“I’m going to get some coffee...I had a bad nightmare and fell off the bed. I ended up hitting my head on the wooden floors so I want to make sure I don’t end up in a coma or something because I fell asleep with a concussion.” After explaining you look up at him and shrug, “It doesn’t happen often but like I said before…” 

“you were thinking about bad things before we came over...whatever you keep in that skull of yours must be pretty bad if it has you up this late.” Sans says, this time his gaze moving towards where you’re walking. He seems to have figured out which coffee place you’re going to without you needing to mention it. 

“Just a nightmare. So what are you doing up so late?” You ask, desperate to have the conversation off of your nightmare. You can feel it again, the phantom fingers brushing your skin, causing you to shudder. When you gain a questioning look, you blame the cold. 

“same as you. hiding from the night terrors.” 

It’s only then that you realize that Sans is being a bit odd. He was making jokes, teasing and tormenting his brother and everyone else with puns while he sat comfortably on your couch earlier that day. Yet now he seems almost...depressed. You frown at his admission, your heart twisting a bit at the idea of your neighbor suffering from nightmares. Reaching out, you make a bold move and loop your arm with his. He jumps a bit, looking at you as if you’ve lost your mind. All you do is smile and tuck your hand back into your pocket as you keep walking. Maybe you could comfort him somehow...help him feel a bit better about everything somehow?    
  
“Think of it this way, they’re just nightmares. They aren’t real...and if they were, then all you have to remember is that they’re in the past and they no longer matter.” You state simply, “At least they no longer matter in the sense that they can’t hurt you.”    
  
Sans laughs at this, it’s not a happy sound either. It’s almost...haunting, really. It’s just a breathless chuckle, something that shouldn’t bother you, but it does. “Hey,” You stop walking, waiting until Sans looks at you expectedly. Whether he’s waiting for you to let go of him or to hear you out, you have no idea. “I don’t know how bad it was, or what it even was that made up your nightmare, but it’s not going to hurt you. It can’t, not while you’re here. You have family and friends here for you, and while whatever it is may have been terrible, you still woke up okay, right? You’re still surrounded by friends and family who love you.”    
  
It takes a moment before you get any sort of reaction from him, and what reaction you do get sort of confuses you. “you’re an odd one, aren’t you?”    
  
“Excuse me?” 

“there aren’t many people who care about people they just met. there are less people who care about  _ monsters  _ they just met. so why are you tryin to help me feel better when you nearly cracked your skull on your bedroom floor? shouldn’t you be more worried about yourself than a bag of bones?”

He says all of this like he really means it, like this is what he believes. On some level it is true for many people and he must believe it’s the same way you should be acting...so you’re a little taken back. You don’t pull away from him though, and the two of you are left standing just a few steps away from the next street lamp. You can see the lights of the cafe just down the sidewalk and across the road, but your main focus is the skeleton you’ve linked arms with. Where do you even start with this? You have no idea, so you speak freely, just letting what you say come out without letting it go through a filter like you probably should. 

“Just because you’re a monster doesn’t mean you’re a  _ monster _ , Sans.” You say quietly. Now he looks confused, his head tilting as if he doesn’t understand. Maybe he doesn’t. “You’re a monster in the terms of species. You’re not a monster, by human definition. There’s a few definitions for it, but the one that comes to mind most is when they define it by saying a threatening force. Basically something meant to hurt others...something that enjoys hurting others. You came to my house yesterday, with your brother and your friends, and you welcomed me. You offered to leave when you thought I was having a bad day. You’re a good guy, Sans...someone I would sort of like to be friends with eventually. But calling yourself a monster like it’s a bad thing isn’t okay. You’re nice, you’re funny, and I happen to like seeing you smile and happy. Monster or human, it doesn’t matter, because what I see is someone worth getting to know and befriend. So I’m not gonna sit by and let you suffer after a nightmare on your own, especially since it seems like we both need someone to be around tonight. Me for the sake of not falling into a coma, and you so you realize that you happen to be pretty damn great.”    
  
The confusion in his gaze is gone now, instead he’s looking at you like you’ve just gone insane. One bony hand slips from his jacket pocket and he gently prods at your head, “jeez kid, how hard did you hit the ground to start talking that way?”

“Keep poking me and I’m gonna bite you.” You state with an annoyed huff. Sans pulls his hand away, his smile quirking up a bit. 

“whatever you say, kid. it’s just odd is all, you talk like you have a thing against humans instead of us monsters.” 

“Not all. Just one.” The admission slips out before you can help it, but at least the two of you are walking towards the cafe again. You stare at it, hoping that maybe Sans didn’t hear that little quip. No such luck. 

“what do ya mean by that?” 

You’re burning a hole into the glass of the cafe with how hard you stare at it. If it were possible to do that, you could almost picture how the glass would look while melting into an odd shade of red and dropping off in large, bright reddish orange globs. As it is, the glass is perfectly fine and you’re left to answer Sans with no superpowers to save you.

“I mean I have a problem with one of my own.” A pretty big problem that left you messed up in the head and usually very messed up with having people touch you. That was something that you hated. Jumping when your family touched you, scrubbing at the places as if you could make the touches go away. It was okay if you touched them, but having people touch you just made everything feel...wrong. Sans is looking at you still, curiosity in those black pits that are his eye sockets, only two little white dots giving away that he’s not exactly normal by human standards.    
  
“why?” He asks. It’s a question you should have expected, but you don’t. Somehow this conversation has turned against you.    
  
“Reasons.” He snorts at that answer but he lets it go. Maybe he heard the undertone of finality in your voice. Maybe he heard the tremble in it, instead.    
  
You two finally get to the cafe and you pull away, rather reluctantly. For being a nosy skeleton, Sans is pretty damn warm. It’s one of those doors you hate, one that you can’t tell is a push or pull, but thankfully you figure it out as you reach it. Pushing the door open, you hold it open for your neighbor to follow you inside. The cafe smells wonderful, the strong scent of coffee swirling around and slowly pushing away the headache pounding against your skull. It’s gone quiet between you and Sans, but it’s a comfortable silence as you both glance over the menu. You’re the first to step up to the counter, your mind already made up as the young man on the other side waits patiently.    
  
“I’d like a caramel frappuccino, no whipped cream please?” You’re voice is forced a bit louder so the person can hear you, the thought of having to repeat your order making you want to be clear the first time. He nods and after a few minutes you have your coffee sitting in front of you and you pay the man with what little cash you have in your wallet. As you move away from the counter you take a sip from the straw, quirking a brow when you realize Sans is staring at you again. You’re starting to get used to it, it seems as if no matter where you were, if Sans was around then he was most likely watching you. And you thought you were overly wary of people…

“You could always take a picture, Sweetheart. It’ll last longer.” You point out after you swallow the creamy deliciousness that is your frappuccino. Instead of moving to a booth, like you had been planning to do, you lean against the counter as Sans orders his own coffee.    
  
“it’s freezing outside and you just ordered cold coffee. are you sure i shouldn’t be takin you to the hospital or something?” Sans asks and it’s obvious he’s teasing you for your taste in coffee. It’s something you're used to since your mom always points out how odd it is to have frozen drinks as much as you do. You still remember getting odd looks for going through winter with a slushy or frappuccino in your hand. 

“I just prefer the cold drinks to the hot. It’s not because I managed to scramble my brains this morning.” 

“it’s still plausible that you did damage to your brain. whether you were weird before or not doesn’t mean you haven’t hurt yourself somehow.”

“Do you have to be logical?” 

“no, but i’m not exactly in the mood to be funny at the moment, so logic will have to do.” 

The answer makes you bite your straw as you watch him. Would it be bad to ask? Probably...but you want to know why Sans is so...upset. You had managed to coax a slight smile out of him before, but so far all you can manage to get from him seems to point at him being in worse shape than you at the moment. Chewing on the straw you think before you get an idea. Sure, you have no idea how to play it, but maybe it would be the mold breaker you need. “Wanna play chess?” You ask suddenly, wincing a bit at the timing.    
  
Sans looks up from paying, his expression unreadable. It’s easy to tell that he’s trying to get a read on you, so all you do is meet and keep his gaze the best you can. After a while it starts to be uncomfortable but then he’s nodding. At first it’s one jerky movement, like he’s still not entirely sure, but then he nods in a bit more natural manner. “sure, kid. i don’t see why not. not like i have anything better to be doin.” 

He picks up his coffee and you both head back towards your house. You’re thinking of where the chess board and its pieces are. It’s been years since you last had it out, you had been ten the last time you set eyes on it. It had been a gift from your father, one you couldn’t quite let go of even if you wanted to. You had been meaning to sell it, but something has stopped you, the same something that stopped you all those years ago. Before you know it, you make it to your house and you realize the walk has been in silence. Sans doesn’t seem to mind, he’s staring up at the stars and he looks the most comfortable he has been the entire night. Your hand is on the door as you ask, “Do you want to stargaze instead?”    
  
It’s not a rude question, it’s said with a genuine curiosity. You haven’t stargazed in a long time. It was something you did all the time in elementary and middle school, but in high school everything had crumbled and left you with very little to care for. Looking up at the stars sounded nice though...and ruining a few blankets to do it wasn’t such a bad thing.    
  
“i thought we were gonna play chess? afraid i’ll beat ya?” 

You roll your eyes as you realize Sans is smirking at you. But he sounds happier now, so you don’t mind so much. “I’m not afraid you will, I know you will.” You push open the door and leave it open for Sans to follow you inside. Watson is waiting in the hallway, the cat seemingly surprised by Sans appearance but not caring enough to check the skeleton. Instead Watson follows you as you go to the room that was meant to be an office but is instead just where you put a few things you didn’t know what to do with. A lone box sits against the far wall, beneath a window. The word fragile is marked in bold black streaks of sharpie on the side, and you kneel beside it. Opening it carefully you pull out the bag that has all of the pieces in it, wincing a bit when you hear glass clinking together.    
  
“so you challenged me to a game you know you’re gonna lose?” Sans has found his way to you after shutting and locking the front door and now he’s leaning against the door frame of the room you're in. There’s another question in his voice, and you hear it clearly. Why would you ever offer to play a game you know you’ll lose? 

“I wanted to spend more time with you. Why go our separate ways when we both need someone to lean on for a little while? Sure, you’ll probably beat me twenty times at this and get bored, but we’ll be together. That’s enough, right?” You answer his question, the unspoken one, without needing to be prompted for it. Your attention is on the box though, and you offer the chess pieces to Sans, who walks from where he’d been originally standing to take them from you.    
  
“are these glass? you kept a fancy chessboard in a box instead of setting it up somewhere?”

“Yep.” you answer as you carefully pick up the board, the bubblewrap sliding off as you lift the board out of the box. Light trickles through the glass, green and white shining brightly with the light of the room.

“why?” Sans sounds like he’s captivated by the colored glass and you bite back a smile. He’s sort of adorable like this, would be even more adorable if he wasn’t asking so many questions, but you’ll put up with it. You did say you wanted to be his friend after all. 

“Reasons.” You echo your answer from your earlier walk, grinning when he pins you with a look. You don’t even know how a skeleton can look annoyed, but then again Sans seems more expressive than most people. It shouldn’t surprise you. At this point it’s starting not to. You walk past him and you both set up the board on the coffee table back in the living room. He’s white, your green, and while you lose every time, Sans starts teaching you how to play as you go through the games. 

You had only know the basics, but it was enough to make playing fun for both of you. Watson has curled up in your lap, and both you and Sans look better than you had before. The ache in your skull is dimming and your drink is melting a bit, but it feels...nice. Like home. It’s still surprising you, how much this feels like home when you know it’s not. Your home should be with your mom, your brother, your grandparents. Yet here you are, sitting on the floor with a skeleton, playing a game you hardly understand up until now, and it feels so painfully perfect that you wonder how long it’ll last. Sans notices, somehow, that your thoughts have turned on you.    
  
“if you want, we can stargaze tomorrow night?” He offers, as he moves his bishop, “and Paps and I can come over sometime in the morning to hang out?” 

“You mean later today?” You smile when you get one of those looks, the one that you know means you should probably just answer the question instead of posing another question. “It sounds perfect, Sans. But I have to get groceries, otherwise I’ll starve here once I eventually finish the wonderful cake that was made for me.” 

“even more reason to tag along then. we can make tomorrow a day just for the three of us.” His answer is surprising, but in your sleepy mind, it sounds wonderful. How long had it been since you socialized with anyone outside of your family…? How long had it been since you befriended someone that wasn’t through the computer who eventually just stopped talking to you? How long had it been since you felt like there was a chance for something truly good to happen?    
  
“Sounds perfect to me.” There’s a smile now and he glances up at you before nodding his agreement and taking one of your pawns. You know you’ll lose another game of chess, but now you feel like you’ve won. You’re taking a step out of your shell and you’ve found someone who seems to simply...understand. Maybe the nightmares won’t be so bad tomorrow. Maybe they’ll be kept at bay with the brothers here to spend time with you. With all the maybes and possibilities rolling around in your head, you have one certainty that holds firm. 

You want to take a chance. And for once, after years of playing it safe, you will. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope it was good. :3


	3. New and Old Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A morning out with the skelebros and an appearance of an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, guys. First I want to apologize, I caught a stomach virus from my brother and yeah. Things sort of went downhill for me for most of the week but I'm starting to feel better. :] Hopefully my updates will go back to being a daily thing soon, but I'm still dealing with occasional headaches and tiredness (the tiredness due to my meds) so I can't make promises on that yet. I also cut this chapter in half so you guys don't think I just up and left this Fanfic. (Honestly I have more planned for this than most of the others I have. So yay!) I hope you guys enjoy it. :]

Maybe coffee in the middle of the night hadn’t been the best idea in the world. Music is blasting in your house, not loud enough to disturb the neighborhood, but it’s loud enough that you know your mom would kill you if you were still back home. This, of course, doesn’t stop you from enjoying the sudden freedom you have. You’re dressed in a white tank top and pajama shorts, thick fluffy socks making it all too tempting to slide over your wooden floors. You fight the urge until it’s eight and then you cave, putting on your favorite upbeat song and letting yourself have a little fun. Singing out loud is something you would never do around others, dancing is another thing you tuck away for those times when it's just you and Watson together. But the caffeine and sugar of earlier this morning, and the other two cups you and Sans had gone out to get before he had headed home, has you in a great mood. Or maybe it’s just the upbeat music and the knowledge that you’ve sort of made a friend last night?   
  
Either way, whatever it is has you swaying your hips and singing along, a genuine grin in place. Watson is watching you like he expects you to fall face first into the ground this time...at least he is until you get an idea. You have a running start from the living room and you brace yourself as you slide down the hall to the very last room, Watson’s little play room. Glancing around at the cat tree and the toys littering the floor, you grin when you find the bright yellow toy you're looking for. It’s a long feathery rope that is attached to a plastic stick and it’s perfect to get Watson to stop staring at you and judging you in the way only a cat can. Snatching it up you grin and take a few running steps to get you started before sliding back into the living room.

You stop just before you end up giving the wall an unplanned hug with your face and Watson is staring at you like you’ve lost your mind. Well, that is until you sway the cat toy in front of him, and then he’s hyper aware of the toy. The next song starts up, just as upbeat and happy as the first, and you start dancing, twirling the toy as you move to the beat. Watson is now running around you, an occasional mewl from him being barely overheard past your voice and the song. You allow yourself this time very sparingly, mostly because you never had the house to yourself. But your singing voice is good and your dancing skills are just as great, you just never had the confidence to show it off. It’s as you're twirling that you realize someone’s knocking at the door, you call out, suddenly wondering if they’ve heard your singing over the music, but you don’t get to say much.   
  
  
“I’ll be there in a sec-WATSON!” You shriek the cats name as your feline friend is now attached to your leg with all the fierceness of his inner hunter and you stumble backwards with a yelp. Thankfully you land on the couch and Watson lets go when he realizes the flesh of your calf is not the fluffy yellow thing he wanted to capture. You’re dazed, not entirely focused, and when you feel an electric tingle wash over your nerve endings, you’re left a little breathless.

“you’re a little bit clumsy to be the dancing queen, aren’t ya?”

Sans? How was he in your house?! How _long_ had he been in your house? Your eyes widen and you tilt your head to look towards where you had heard his voice. He’s just behind you, standing beside the couch arm that you had ended up having your head cushioned against. He’s grinning, looking you over curiously, and the question of how he’d gotten into your house is forgotten and instead you’re now far too aware that your sprawled out on your couch, braless, in a tight fitting tank top, and the only short shorts you would dare to wear because they were colorful sleepwear. Welp. You’re face is now on fire with a blush spreading over your cheeks and the bridge of your nose.   
  
“How are you here?” You finally get out as you sit up, pouting slightly, “And I’m a wonderful dancer when I don’t have traitorous cats attempting to eat my leg.”

As you shoot a glare at Watson, who is now chewing on the feathery toy he was so desperate to capture, he pauses, his ear twitching as he looks up at you. He’s not the least bit apologetic or guilty looking. Sans, on the other hand, is making odd noises. A look at him tells you what the problem is. He’s laughing but trying rather badly to hide it. You would be far more upset about this if he didn’t sound adorable with the little, barely there snorting noise that interrupts the chuckles he’s trying to hide behind a bony hand. Dork.   
  
“So, are you gonna tell me how you broke into my house without breaking anything?” You finally sigh as you stand and stretch, your back letting out multiple popping sounds. The laughter abruptly stops and growing curious you check to make sure Sans hasn’t disappeared as quickly as he had appeared in your living room. Nope, he’s still there. He just has a light shade of blue on his cheek bones...how is that even possible? Wanting to ask questions, but not wanting to have a chat about monster anatomy so early in the morning, you instead file that away for later, tilt your head and go with a hunch. Your fingers, which are intertwined above your head, pop with one smooth, well used motion. His face turns a darker shade of blue.

Oh. My. God. He’s blushing! You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from grinning. You fail, but hey, at least you tried, right? He’s just too fucking adorable, you can’t help it, you’ve gotta tease him. Just a little bit. “Something wrong, Sansy?” You ask not so innocently as you lower your arms and turn towards him. He twitches, and then he’s got his eye sockets narrowed on you, the blue blush still in place. He’s caught on to your little tease and while you should probably be apologizing for it, all you can do is force back an all out grin. You’re biting your lower lip to avoid laughing, but you’re still smiling like the cat that got the cream.   
  
“you’re lucky Paps is waiting for us or i’d make you pay for that.” This is said in a growling tone, one that has your toes curling just slightly in your socks. You don’t doubt his words one bit, but it isn’t enough to discourage you. Seeing Sans a bit happier than he was last night is nice, and honestly you’re a bit too hyper today. You feel like taking risks, doing things you usually wouldn’t do. It’s just one of those days. That’ll be your excuse if any of this comes around to bite you in the backside. Instead of asking why Papyrus is waiting for you two, because some part of you has filed away the information that you’re supposed to go grocery shopping with the boys today, you take a step forward, coming closer to Sans.

“Oh really? What’s the big bad skeleton gonna do to get revenge?” While you know you probably shouldn’t be pushing this, it’s giving you a slight thrill and it makes you feel warm and happy inside. You feel something you haven’t felt for nearly three years now, and if you’re honest with yourself, you’re willing to chase that feeling for as long as you need to. The fact that it’s being around Sans that has brought that emotion boiling up again doesn’t even bother you. Who knew a couple cups of coffee and a lack of sleep would have such an odd reaction...crashing is gonna be a problem, you can tell that already.  
  
“wouldn’t you like to know?” Sans responds smoothly and mirroring your step forward. He’s invading your space, something you hardly notice as you wait patiently for whatever he may have planned. The last thing you expect is for him to smirk and say, “if you’re not outside in ten, we’re leaving without you.” There’s a snapping sound and a wave of blue radiates through the room, leaving your skin tingling and your chest squeezing in the oddest way. Sans is no longer standing in front of you and you’re staring at the pale yellow wall of your living room. That sneaky little!

Wanting to be annoyed at Sans turn and run tactic, you find that it’s nearly impossible and give in to the warm feeling that has you rushing to turn off the radio and get dressed. So far running away hadn’t turned out bad for you...after all, you haven’t grinned this much in longer than you can remember. You’re happy and ready to do things for the day...it’s amazing really. You get outside in under eight minutes, goofy smile still on your face. Seeing Papyrus waiting patiently in his red sports car, waving when he notices you, and Sans leaning against it makes your heart do an odd little flip. This happiness, that not so new emotion that sparks around Sans...you’re family would be happy for you. Maybe after tonight you should give them a call? Deciding to do that later you jump over the steps, magically not busting your ass for doing something like that, and run over to the car, that bubble of light in your chest swelling to the point of nearly being painful. Being happy again...it’s really a treat you never expected to come from running away from your issues back home. But you can’t say you’re disappointed to have found it...quite the opposite actually.

You couldn’t be more thrilled about finding these wonderful monsters who welcomed you so sweetly. You can only hope that the shadows that surround your life don’t end up causing you problems later down the road with them. Maybe sometime later, tomorrow, you should talk to _him_ as well. Not the man you ran from, but the one who took his place. A loud blast of music has you jumping slightly, looking up at Papyrus after you’ve gotten in the front seat and buckled up. The taller skeleton brother is grinning broadly, singing along happily to the tune, and this is when you find out that Papyrus the Great has the worst case of lead foot in the world as the car screeches out of your driveway and down the road with you wishing you had suggested driving your own truck to the store. Hopefully you’ll make it to the store in one piece.

***

Never, never, _never again._ Never will you get in a car that Papyrus is driving, ever again. Sans is still laughing, not even bothering to cover it up as you sit in the front seat, your fingers curled tight around the seat belt you have clutched to your chest, your entire body stiff. You’ve gone pale, something Papyrus has noticed and causes him to worry. Sans laughs louder.   
  
“HUMAN, ARE YOU ALRIGHT? YOU LOOK ILL.” Papyrus says as he gently sets a hand on your shoulder. Slowly, you uncurl your fingers and take a deep slightly shaking breath, trying to calm your pounding heart. And you thought your mom was a speed demon!

“I-uh-I’m fine, hon. Just...wasn’t expecting that.” You say carefully, fighting down the urge to ask who the heck had taught this angel how to fly like a demon on the road. At least it was early and not many people were out and about. The sound of the belt being released with a click had you looking back towards Sans, who was now leaning between you and Papyrus.

“come on, kids. let’s get what we need and then we can get back home.” He’s still grinning, and part of you wonders if he would have warned you about Paps hellish driving skills if not for your teasing earlier this morning. Shrugging out of the belt you open the side door and stand up, ignoring the odd looks you're getting from a few people. It had been three years, you would think people would start getting over it and just accept Monsters as part of the community by now. But when everyone had trouble with everyone of their own species, either because of religion, color, whatever else they could find to make offensive, even you knew it was still a long battle for Monsters to be fully accepted.

Tucking your hands into your light jacket, you manage not to scowl at each and every person who stops and looks in confusion or disgust. Thankfully Papyrus doesn’t notice...Sans on the other hand seems to be trying the same thing you are and attempting to ignore them. Once the three of you are inside, you end up pushing the buggy, a small list of things in your hands while Papyrus and Sans wander around. It’s while you’re going down the snack aisle that you get an idea, but you’re not entirely sure if the skelebros have ever tried the treat you have in mind.   
  
“Sans, have you and Papyrus ever tried s'mores before?” While you wait for an answer you pick up a box of graham crackers and look them over, trying to figure out if it would be good or not to use.   
  
“what’re s’mores?” Well, there was your answer. You toss the graham crackers into the buggy, grabbing two more boxes to snack on later if you feel the urge to make more s’mores just for yourself.

“Just the best thing ever.” You say with a shrug, scanning the aisle for marshmallows and chocolate, quickly putting two bags of the fluffy white marshmallows into the buggy and taking a handful of Hershey bars to put in the cart as well. While you’re still looking for extra treats, because honestly you occasionally have a sweet tooth at night whether you want one or not, Papyrus shows up with an armful of different noodles. How he’s managing to carry it all is left up to your mind's imagination, though the sight of the amount of boxes he’s bringing towards you makes your wallet scream for help. One glance at Sans and you know he’s thinking the same thing, only he doesn’t look like he’s going to help you avoid spending every last penny on spaghetti.

When you realize this you give him a not so hidden disbelieving look and he just shrugs, looking sheepish. He really can’t say no to his little brother, can he? This fact only manages to crush what little annoyance you felt at his lack of help. You had a little brother of your own, and while things weren’t as wonderful as things were between Sans and Papyrus, you could understand where he was coming from. Though being put in this situation was _not_ something Sans wouldn’t be paying for later. Maybe you could hold this over his head for him to pay for the coffees next time you ran into each other after a nightmare or something. While you were hopeful that those night terrors wouldn’t show up for a while, you didn’t believe that they would never show up again. Deciding to bite the bullet you stop Papyrus before he can put the varying boxes of pasta into your cart.

“Paps, sweetheart, I think that’s a bit much for just the three of us, don’t you think? And we still need some cash to get a few extra things.”

Papyrus looks confused for a moment, before he asks, “WE WERE MEANT TO BE SHOPPING FOR ONLY THREE OF US?” It takes you a moment or two for the question to sink in, and when it does you feel a bit of dawning horror. If Papyrus had thought you were buying for more than just the three of you...how many people did he think you were buying for?  

“Well..yeah. How many people did you think we were getting stuff for?” You ask with a gentle tone, and suddenly Papyrus has turned a light orange color. You can only assume it’s a blush, like the blue color that Sans had turned earlier this morning. “Pap?”

“I WAS UNDER THE ASSUMPTION THAT EVERYONE WAS INVITED..I TOLD UNDYNE AND ALPHYS ABOUT IT EARLIER THIS MORNING AND THEY SAID THEY WOULD TELL TORIEL AND FRISK WHEN THEY WOKE UP.” the taller skeleton answers, looking like the world may very well be crashing around him, “I WAS NOT AWARE THAT THIS WAS MEANT TO BE ONLY THE THREE OF US, I WILL LET THEM-”

“No, it’s fine.” The words are out without much thought, but you don’t regret them. After all, you owed Frisk and Undyne for making that cake as well, and getting to spend more time with the group seemed like...fun. Sure, it wouldn’t be as small a group as you originally thought, but people were already invited and Papyrus seemed so down about having made a mistake over it. “I’d love to have them over. Though I still think that’s a bit too much pasta for all of us. How about just four boxes? That should be more than enough for all of us, and everyone can keep some leftovers. Sound good?”   
  
Papyrus had gone quiet for a few seconds, looking at you like a child would if you had randomly presented them with a present. A bit awestruck but very happy. When he grins you can’t help but smile as well. After taking four of the boxes and putting them in the cart, Papyrus quickly heads back to put away the other boxes from whichever aisle he had been browsing before he had shown up. As you turned back around to the cart you see Sans move towards you, a thankful look on his face, but something else catches your attention. Or rather, some _one_ else catches your attention.

You hear your name called by a familiar voice and when you look up you see a grinning man walking towards you, his hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans. He’s pale with deep green eyes and he towers over you at nearly six foot three inches. “Ronnie?” You ask, surprised to see Ronnie Moss, your middle school best friend, walking towards you. He looks different, older, obviously, though what seems to be the two most prominent changes about him is the fact that his spiky brown hair has been dyed a vibrant purple, highlighted with hints of pink, and a deep blackish blue bruise that takes up the underside of his right eye. Despite his wide grin and his happy appearance, the bruise is more than enough to tell you what’s happened. He must have been hit by either his dad or his brother again, or some random jerk on the road.

“Hey baby doll, how have you been?” Ronnie asks as you move away from the cart to meet him halfway. While he wraps you in a hug, easily lifting you off your feet, you gently touch his face, tracing the edge of the bruise with a delicate touch.   
  
“I moved away from home. Dad was coming back from Florida and I had a panic attack. Otherwise I’m doing great. What about you?” You were upfront about your issues, having told Ronnie what happened to you during the time it was still happening. Ronnie’s smile slips a bit, tilting towards a frown but he doesn’t say anything about the mention of the panic attack or your father. Instead he answers your question, “Still living in hell, dad punched me a few days ago when I stopped letting them try to ‘fix’ me and all that shit. I’ve been given today and tomorrow to figure out if this ‘choice’ is worth being disowned.”   
  
Your heart twists painfully, a sick feeling curling in your gut as Ronnie sets you down. His smile looks much more forced now and there’s a shine of tears in his eyes. “Ronnie…” you start, unsure of what to say. He had been your best friend, was still your best friend, and you knew exactly what apparent ‘choice’ his parents believed he was making. One thing that still hadn’t changed in the Moss household was the distinct amount of absolute hatred towards anyone _not_ heterosexual. Ronnie had been hiding the fact that he was gay up until a few months ago, and since then things had seemed to be going downhill for him. Your lower lip ends up caught between your teeth, a comfortable but sad silence falling over the two of you until you have a slight idea. “Ronnie...would you like to move in with me?”   
  
There’s a sound behind you, almost like someone choking on a cough or something, but you don’t spare a glance towards them. Instead you focus on Ronnie who seems to be actually thinking on the idea, maybe he believes he may actually need to find shelter somewhere else. Has it really gotten that bad…? For a moment your gaze flickers back to the bruise, the one that is so dark against his pale skin that it almost looks like it’s going to stain that patch of skin forever. It is that bad. His father had chosen to hit him, had chosen to harm him for no reason other than his sexuality. It’s enough to make a fire spark in your soul, one that has you wanting to march to the Moss house and gather up your friends stuff so he can live somewhere safe. But that flame dies down when Ronnie shakes his head.   
  
“It hasn’t gotten to that point yet,” he says with a shrug, his hands burying themselves into his pockets once more, “But I’ll keep it in mind, alright princess?”   
  
The answer doesn’t make you feel better, but it doesn’t surprise you either. Ronnie isn’t the type to just give up on his family. “Alright...but you text me or call me if you need anything. And I mean anything. Okay?” Another hesitation that lasts a few seconds too long, but finally you get a nod.   
  
“I’ll, uh...leave you to your shopping then. Talk to you later?” Ronnie asks with a hopeful smile. When you agree the smile turns into one of his signature grins that would melt most girls hearts. With a quick wave he’s off again, catching up to who looks like his older brother before he can be left in the aisle. Worry gnaws at your insides but you try to push it down. Ronnie is a grown up, if he needs help he’d ask for it...or at least you think he would. The man was more stubborn than you sometimes.   
  
“so, uh, that a friend of yours?” Sans voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you turn to face the skeleton again, surprised to see that he looks a little uncomfortable with the question he’s asking.

“Yeah, Ronnie and I went to middle school and high school together. He was there for me a lot of the time.” You pull the buggy towards you and start walking again, this time easily finding the things you need for tonight and some of the things you’ll need later in the week for just normal dinners for one.

“he seemed pretty close to you.”

  
While this is said as a statement, it sounds like a question. You fight the urge to turn and ask what Sans means, instead choosing to pick up some canned soup before speaking. “Yeah, we traded secrets a lot. He wasn’t accepted at home, and my home wasn’t the best in the world. We helped each other out a lot…” You pause for a moment in putting the soup in the buggy and think over what you’re about to say before deciding to hell with it. Sans knew about the nightmares, maybe not the content of them, but still. Letting him in a bit more couldn’t hurt...right? “He saved me from doing a lot of stupid stuff when I was younger. If it wasn’t for him, you probably wouldn’t see me standing in front of you now.”   
  
Sans doesn’t say anything about this, but his smile isn’t there anymore and you can feel his gaze on you as you walk towards the front of the aisle to meet with Papyrus and look over what other things the younger skeleton has picked up. After a few minutes Sans joins you two, and if he’s standing a bit closer than he had been before and saying a few more jokes, you don’t question it. Even if he doesn’t know the full story, you can tell he’s trying to make a point. He’d be there for you if you needed him to be. That warm feeling from earlier in the morning flares up again, curling around your heart and tugging at it in a comforting way. Maybe telling Sans a bit more about your life wouldn’t be such a bad thing. You wouldn’t start yet, at least not about the really bad things...but maybe soon. For tonight, you have a little party to get ready for.


	4. Stargazing Talks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes friends are all we need...even if they are a tad bit chaotic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I've been gone for like...forever. And I wanna apologize for that. College got seriously heavy on me and then problem after problem popped up. In any case, I am back with a new chapter and I sincerely hope that you guys still enjoy the story. I'm having some problems with my wrists but hopefully I'll get back on track of writing this. As usual, I hope you enjoy!

The house was packed. While it was great, it still had you hiding on the small porch of your house in the back yard and trying to take deep breaths to calm yourself. Sure, you could be out there and get along with others pretty easily when you opened up, but sometimes it just got...tiring. And with Paps and Undyne fixing pasta in the kitchen (it honestly seemed more like a battle that would eventually destroy your kitchen, but you didn’t have the heart to get them to calm down. Thank god for Toriel stepping in.), the sound of a movie starring a Monster named Mettaton playing on high so Papyrus could hear while he was in the kitchen, Alphys wandering in and out between the kitchen and the living room to spend time with everyone, Frisk and her little yellow monster friend MK running around, and Toriel and Asgore either talking to one another or to the ones in the kitchen had gotten to you a bit. It was claustrophobic, the small area of your home seemingly even smaller with these wonderful monsters enjoying the time they had together. You had managed to stick with them, but after nearly stepping on Alphys or Watson for the third time and ending up pressed against your fridge while attempting to dodge the mess your kitchen was now in, you finally escaped out the sliding door to the somewhat large concrete porch at the back of your house and sat down against one of the pillars that held up the roof above you.

Sitting comfortably, you stared up at the darkening sky, already able to make out the curve of the moon. It was only a sliver, barely there but enough to be noticed. A perfect night to go stargazing. Now if only you could survive the war zone that was your house. Breathing in the cool crisp air, you wait for five seconds before slowly letting it out and allowing yourself to fully relax. Your eyes close and you continue the breathing exercises that you had looked up on the internet. Slowly that itch that always came with being in closed spaces with too many people finally disappeared. Sure, you weren’t being a good host by sneaking away like this, but you didn’t want to flinch away from one of the monsters and have them think the wrong thing. Your mom and family understood. They knew why you flinched under someone's touch or rubbed at the spot as if you could brush away the feeling of someone’s hand on you. Sans and the other’s didn’t and the last thing you wanted was to see one of them thinking it was because of what they were that made you flinch.

“hey kid, what’re you doin out here? you look a little bonely.”

You hadn’t even heard the door slide open. Thankfully you didn’t jump, instead you looked up at him curiously as he shut the door, your nose scrunching up just slightly. “Did you just pun?”

Sans doesn’t offer you an answer, though his grin grows and he shrugs as he shuts the door behind him and joins you out on the porch. “what are you doin out here when everyone else is inside?” Instead of sitting beside you, Sans leans against the post a few feet away from you, his hands tucked in his hoodie pockets as he looks down at you. “we’re not bothering you too much, right?”

While it’s just a question it makes you stop for a minute. There’s a change in Sans voice that puts you on edge, almost as if you’ve just been accused for something. When you look up at him he meets your gaze, his own unwavering as he waits for an answer. “If you were I would let you know. I just needed to catch my breath to avoid doing something that may hurt my new friends.” You say truthfully. If anything it seems to make Sans stiffen up a bit more than he had been before. His smile looks a lot less friendly now, if that was even possible.

“what do ya mean by that?”

“I mean I don’t want to flinch away from my friends because I got a little too claustrophobic.” You manage to not sound as defensive as you feel, but you can’t help the hurt that flares up. Sans didn’t think you would actually hurt one of your new friends...right? You just didn’t want to see the heartbroken look in Paps eyes, or anything similar to that from any of the others just because you were messed up about some things. Sans seems to relax instantly, but his less-than-genuine-smile twitches down to a worried frown, “claustrophobic?” He asks, moving to sit down but being careful to stay out of your personal bubble, “is that a problem you have a lot?”

“Sometimes. It’s more the thing that comes with being claustrophobic that I don’t want to come into play tonight. Sometimes I just sort of feel like...I don’t know. Being touched makes me want to rub away whatever feeling lingers. Almost like I can make the touch go away if I rub at the area enough. I don’t want to do that around everyone...my family understands the reason behind it but I don’t think it would end well to mention the reason behind it to you guys.” Why are you always so damn truthful around this guy? It’s a little annoying, but being able to be brutally honest is oddly nice, refreshing almost. You can speak freely without the fear of judgement. Even if he seemed to have gotten the wrong idea a few moments earlier.

“why do you think that?”

“Because people leave when they find out what’s wrong with me. When all the happy, hyperness and smiles are gone, people up and leave. When they don’t see what they want to see, they decide you don’t matter.” It had happened plenty of times before. Risking it this time felt like risking something more important than a half baked friendship that had barely been there in the first place. Jeez, how attached were you getting to your neighbors? You had only met them yesterday...but they brought so much joy and happiness...you didn’t want to lose that. You didn’t want to lose being happy again so soon after gaining the emotion once more. Just a little while longer...that’s all you would ask for. Just a few more weeks, maybe a few more days if you had to ask for less. You just didn’t want them to leave your life after you found them. Certainly not after how quickly they had made the darkness vanish.

“and you think we’d leave.” Sans says, almost as if he’s trying to figure something out. He sounds a bit confused but certain of his words at the same time.

“Everyone does.”

“we wouldn’t.”

“You’ve known me for two days. If I started dragging out my problems, that usually ends up being an early warning that I’m not worth your breath.”

“then it’s a good thing i don’t need to breathe, huh?” Is that supposed to make your heart flutter? Something tells you that, no. It shouldn’t, but it's enough to make you stop and look over at him. Sans has been watching you the entire time, almost as if he could figure you out just by looking at you, and you feel your cheeks heat up in response. “look kid, you were fine with us hanging out with you yesterday when you were having problems, and when you nearly cracked open your skull on your floor you were more interested in telling me why i can be considered a good guy instead of a bad guy. or at least why i’m not the textbook definition of a monster to you. and then you kept me company for the rest of the night when you didn’t have to and agreed to hang out with me and Papyrus for the day. you barely know us, but you’ve done more in two days than i’ve seen most humans do in a year.”

What were you meant to say to that? Your lips part, words on your tongue ready to be said, yet you don’t know what you want to say. How are you supposed to respond to something like that? Apparently you don’t have to, because Sans isn’t quite finished speaking yet, “if you’re unsure of letting us in because you’re afraid of losing us, then i’m here to tell you that you won’t. i won’t force you to go into details or anything, but just know i’m here for you whenever you do feel like opening up. alright?”

Would you ever actually be able to open up about the things that happened at home? About the man you were running from? There were few people outside of your family that you were daring enough to tell, and unfortunately no one had really been able to help. The thought of telling more people when everything had simply become a fact of your life was a little intimidating, but maybe, eventually, you could manage it. Turning away from Sans you looked back up at the sky, the glittering stars making you smile just slightly.

“I probably need therapy, but we never had the money for it. So talking about it is probably the best thing for me to do, at least to just get it out, but...I don’t think I’m ready for that just yet. At least not now.” You don’t bother looking over at him as you speak, instead you focus on the sky that always comforted you when you were younger.

“that’s fine. whenever you wanna talk, i’m always here to listen. i’m sure Tori and the others would like to help you out too.”

You’re about to respond to that when you hear the clatter of the sliding door being pushed open. Looking up you see Toriel standing there, a smile on her face. “It’s time for dinner you two. I hope it wasn’t too forward of me to set the table though..” She seems genuinely worried about this and part of you cringes. God, your mom would smack you if she heard you left a guest to set the table…

“No, it’s fine. I should have done that before though, I’m really sorry.” You say as you stand up, offering Sans a hand to help him up as well. For a moment you were slightly distracted by the feeling of bone against skin, but quickly snapped yourself out of it. You had guests to entertain! And if your skin didn’t prickle at Sans touch like it usually did when you were on edge, then you were fine for the time being. “Come on, let’s go eat.” Stepping past Toriel, you walk into the house. Warmth floods you and you smile at the sight of Undyne and Papyrus setting things in the dining room while Alphys and Asgore try to gather up the kids that are running around.

Just as you stop by the chair you bend down and catch Frisk, who had been darting behind it to hide from Asgore. Picking them up you grin, “Come on, you little twerp. It’s time to eat and then we can go play outside, alright?”

Their grin is answer enough for you.

***

Had you ever grinned so much that your cheeks started to hurt? You couldn’t remember many times that it had happened before, but now that you were sitting outside with the others, watching Frisk and MK run around like before, and the others trying s’mores...well...it was nice. It was something you had never gotten to do before. Now sure, you went to parties of your friends, you’d even gone to some of the outings when you trained in Martial Arts as a teenager, but it wasn’t often that you got to do things like this. Family holidays were usually spent sitting in your room because it was difficult to even talk among the family. They talked over you, or just outright ignored you sometimes, so what was the point in trying? The same happened to your little brother...perhaps it was due to being the youngest cousins? Did it matter?

The smile faded slightly, but you continued to watch the others have fun before turning your gaze up to the sky. It had been forever since you had last done this. Just looking at the stars, enjoying the night around you. The only thing missing was the comfortable earbuds playing music while you gazed up at the sky.

“everything okay, kid?”

“You ask that a lot, you know?” Some could say it was a bit much, someone worrying far too much for a stranger, but you liked it. You liked that someone worried enough to actually ask and actually care when they did ask.

Sans jacket covered shoulder brushed against yours as he sat down beside you, “maybe, but i still wanna know if you are.” You didn’t answer right away, instead looking away and thinking it over. Were you okay? Absolutely not. But then again there was rarely a time you were okay. However...you were better. Not magically healed of your problems, but better. “I’m better. I haven’t felt this happy in years, so I think that should count for something. Even if I’m still messed up.” The nightmares may still come but this...this was nice. This was the light in the darkness and you were beyond thankful to have found it. Smiling slightly you fall back against the soft blanket and stretch before focusing on the stars above you. There’s something you want to say but you’re not sure how to say it...that doesn’t stop it from bubbling up in your chest as you close your eyes. You’re tired but happily so and as you slowly start to rest you let the words slip out, “Thanks for caring enough to ask though, Sans.”

It there’s something Sans wants to say after that point, it’s lost due to you falling asleep. However the dream you’re in is surprisingly warm feeling and has you relaxing. It’s not a nightmare, but instead a dream you’re used to having. It differs constantly from every time you’ve had it, simply because it’s more of a conversation than an actual dream. A mental phone call, really. As you turn around in your dream, you see him. The man, the monster, you had thought of calling earlier that day and you smile brightly as you run up to the monster who had taken your father’s place as a parental figure.

“Hi, Gaster!”

And if the name slips out in a sleepy whisper with only one figure close enough to hear...well...it was just poor timing for a nap.


End file.
